


Someone to talk to

by safety_dancer



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: AU, Dick is a teen, Gen, Kinda, Tim is very smol, pre-Tim!Robin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 02:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6496561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safety_dancer/pseuds/safety_dancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anon asked: Tim as a smol child before robin just being babysitted by a teenaged Dick Grayson. 'Cause they were neighbors.</p><p>Then the idea sorta ran away with me. And got sadder than I intentioned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone to talk to

**Author's Note:**

> for Tori :D

It might sound rather ironic, but Dick’s favorite season was definitely spring. The air felt cleaner, the city seemed brighter. In winter, heavy grays shrouded over everything, giving Dick a feeling of being closed in, despite flying through the open sky at night alongside Batman. Then the summers were miserable, humid and sticky, and it was the only time of year he was glad that his costume left so much skin uncovered.

Now, as he sat in a higher branch in one of the large oaks that graced the manor lawns, the cool breeze blowing through his hair, he had to admit that spring was perfect, make all the robin jokes you want.

Dick swung his legs, contemplating the possibility of taking a nap right up there in the tree, when he heard a small laugh that carried in the wind. He sat up straighter, glancing around for the source of the noise. From his position, he could easily see over the tall, flowered hedge that separated the manor from their neighbors, the Drake family. He squinted in the sunlight, searching the Drake grounds until he spotted a tiny figure seated in the shade of a massive fir, talking animatedly.

“–Very green, and she had pretty blonde hair… told me I looked… and she… super beautiful…”

Dick caught snippets of what the kid was saying, the descriptions of a girl it sounded like. The weird thing was, he had no idea who the kid was talking to. There was no one with him, and he probably didn’t know Dick was close by. And yet, he continued in his chattering, sometimes laughing at something, sometimes waving his arms around in excitement. Dick watched, not really sure how to react, especially when the little one suddenly went quiet, hands dropping into his lap as if remembering something and the silence would stretch for several long moments before he would start up again, but it was lackluster. He felt inexplicably sad for the kid in those moments. He ended up dropping out of the tree, walking home with his hands in his pockets, unable to continue listening to the childish voice laced with such sadness.

**……**

Over the course of the next week, Dick would climb back up onto his branch, staring over the hedge and waiting for the little boy –Tim, he remembered now– to come out, take a seat in the shade and once again start up his one-sided conversation. 

The first day, Dick had told Bruce about Tim. Bruce pursed his lips, looking  _angry_ for a few moments. 

“The Drakes are rarely home,” he had said eventually, his voice flat, “always going on extended trips abroad for months on end. They leave Tim at home with a nanny or a maid, but he’s otherwise mostly alone.”

Dick bit his lip, closing his eyes when Tim lapsed into another bout of depressing silence. He felt his heart break for this kid. He had since realized that when Tim talked, he pretended to be talking to his parents, telling his  _absent family_ about his days and experiences. Some days Dick felt tears springing to his eyes, and a simmering hatred towards the Drakes for doing this to their _own child_.

Steeling himself, Dick swung from the branch, landing gracefully and walking over towards the hedge before scaling it, perching himself on top. “Hello!” He called out, and being closer he saw Tim jerk in surprise, his dark head whipping around until he caught sight of Dick on the hedge. Dick waved cheerfully, smiling kindly. Tim looked around himself, as if to ask _are you waving at me?_   then he tentatively raised one small hand, giving a tiny half wave in return. 

“Hi,” he greeted, slight awe in his higher pitched voice. 

“Mind if I hop over?” 

Tim shrugged, which Dick took as confirmation and so hopped down, jogging over to plop himself in front of Tim, who’s bright blue eyes held some trepidation along with curiosity. Dick grinned, holding out a hand. “I’m Dick Grayson! Nice to meet you.”

“Tim Drake,” Tim carefully shook the offered hand. He crossed his legs, drawing his hand back and tucking a stray strand of black hair behind his ear nervously. “Uhm, did you need to see Mrs. Mac or some–”

“Nah,” Dick shook his head, “You just seemed kinda lonesome and I thought you could use some company. Unless this is like, weird or something, and I should just leave–”

“No no, it’s okay,” Tim assured, somewhat desperately. “I– yes, some company for a while would be nice, I mean.”

Dick smiled. “Sweet!” he enthused, and was pleased to notice Tim’s previously tense posture relax, and his expression was _content_. The only thing Dick regretted about this situation is _not having done this sooner_.

**……**

It was nearly dusk by the time Dick stood to return home. He brushed the bits of grass and dirt from his shorts before reaching out to ruffle Tim’s hair. They had spent the hours talking about everything and anything, Tim beyond happy to actually have someone to _listen_ and _respond_ to him. Dick found himself incredibly _charmed_ by this little boy who would just chatter endlessly, only pausing to suck in a hurried breath before plowing on, like he was trying to get everything out before Dick would leave him as well.

 _Which was definitely_ not _happening_.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay Timmy?” He grinned when the younger boy rolled his eyes at the nickname though he flushed a happy pink. “I’ll even bring some snacks. You gotta try Alf’s peanut butter cookies, they’re _to die for_.”

“Okay!” Tim hopped up as well, hands held behind his back and rolling back and forth on his heels, a bundle of nervous energy. He stood there, a silly grin on his face as Dick strode back towards the hedge, offering one last wave before vaulting himself over with a little extra flair, laughing when Tim called out “show off!” 

……

Bruce barely looked up from his book when Dick came barging into the sitting room a few minutes later smelling of cut lawn and fresh air. “Where you been?”

“I was over at the Drakes’, talkin’ to Tim.” Dick flopped down besides Bruce on the couch, catching sight of the man’s arched brow. “That kid talks more than _Wally_ , which is saying something,” he laughed quietly before sobering. “He’s kinda precious, B. I _hate_ that he’s always alone, it’s terrible and he doesn’t deserve that. Can’t you _do_ something about it?”

“Trust me Dick, if there was anything I could do, I certainly would’ve done it by now. From a legal standpoint I’m helpless.”

Dick sighed, picking at a loose thread on the sofa before a thought occurred to him and he brightened. “From a _legal_ standpoint, yeah. But on a _personal_ level we can do something, right? Tim needs friends, and to not be cooped up with some old lady twenty-four seven.” Dick sat up, looking hopefully at Bruce. “We could have him stay here– like for some weeks at a time or something? Or I could go over there? Maybe we could get the Drakes to hire me as a sitter or something like that –though honestly I would rather not be paid– or Alfred can–”

“Slow down, Dick,” Bruce held up a hand, a tiny smile quirking his lips. “Those are good thoughts, but we have to see if the Drakes would even consider anything like this. I mean, we’re are exactly _friends_ , but simply acquaintances.”

“You’ll just have to work some of your _Brucie Wayne_ magic,” Dick said, snickering at Bruce’s grimace at the admittedly awful nickname. 

“I’ll see what I can do, Dick. Promise.”


End file.
